


Home for Christmas

by SickSadWorldLady



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SickSadWorldLady/pseuds/SickSadWorldLady
Summary: Kara and Mon-El flirt their way through a Christmas crash course.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Arguably one of the fluffiest things I've ever written, but these two and their damn adorable smiles are worth it. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays Everyone!

Snow fell liberally outside the apartment’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Kara watched as it danced up and down on pointe, the scent of hot cocoa floating to the tip of her nose. Even as the cold permeated the thin glass, her face just inches away, the green alien mug topped with a Santa hat--a joke gift from Alex which she loved far more than she let on--kept her hands warm. She curled tighter around herself, the cream cashmere blanket draped lightly over her, fuzzy socks peeking underneath. 

Defeating the Dominators had been... well seeing Barry and meeting his “crew” had been fun anyways. She’d enjoyed having a group to fight with, even working alongside Ollie had its moments. Nights, however, found her wanting for home, once again literally worlds away. She lived alone here in National City, of course, but often Alex would stop by for pizza, or CatCo or the DEO would keep her so late she’d barely notice she was home as she fell languidly to sleep. Chaos swirled around her in Central City and so sometimes nights faded into oblivion as at home. When that didn’t happen, when she was left alone in her makeshift room at STAR Labs, she longed for home in a way she hadn’t since she first landed on Earth. Earth 38 that is. 

She let her thoughts meander with the falling snow, so enraptured by the quiet and magic of the season that she must have missed the knock. In front of her Mon-El juggled a pair of brown paper grocery bags, eyebrows at attention, teeth tugging his lower left lip as he cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I tried knocking but you didn’t answer,” he stammered. “But I didn’t know if maybe you had gone to save someone quickly so I used the key.” He shifted his weight to his left hip dangling the spare key from the “I Heart National City” keychain. 

“No, come in, come in,” she brightened, setting the mug down on the coffee table. She practically jumped into action, which for Kara was a somewhat scary act. 

“So what are we doing again?” He set the bags on the table, left eye raised skeptically. Snowflakes freckled his dark brown hair causing him to frantically sweep through the strands with his fingers.

“We, newly cemented Earthling, are participating in a long, though I’m not sure how long, Earth tradition of making gingerbread cookies!”

“I assume cookies are the same here?”

“Pretty much,” she smiled, a nervous flutter nibbling at her stomach. They still hadn’t acknowledge the kiss, but its theoretical lack of existence hadn’t stopped her from thinking about it, about the softness of his skin as his thumb gently brushed across her cheek. Or the way his eyes pierced hers right before he kissed her. There was something she couldn’t shake about it, about the way they seemed to be orbiting about each other. 

“Alright Danvers, let’s make cookies then.”

“Perfect,” she clapped bubbly, bouncing lightly. “First things first, here’s your apron.”

He looked quizzically at the item, turning it around in his hands.

“Uhhh?”

“Here, like this.” Reaching toward him, she grabbed the apron back, unballing it and shaking it lightly. Her hands skimmed his shoulders as she placed the apron lightly around his neck, catching his eyes as he watched her only centimeters from his lips. She played with her own lip as she pulled away quickly.

“Ok turn around,” she commanded. Quickly as she could, she tied the strings in the back, avoiding anymore lingering touches.

Mon-El swung back around, thumbs hooked in the sides of the apron eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “How do I look?”

Kara giggled and she thought she detected a bit of pride in his matching smile. 

“Step two. Get out the ingredients. You, uh, you did get the stuff right? Like from the store, using the money I gave you?”

He rolled his eyes at her, but it wasn’t that much of a stretch, afterall she could merely point out the little stuffing mishap.

“At your service,” he said as he waived his hands in front of the bags.

She moved over to the table, quickly pulling things out of bags, eager to get started.

“Oh, but first, more cocoa!” She exclaimed, finding the pack of soft, smooth mini marshmallows. 

Grabbing her glass, she poured cocoa powder into the alien mug and a slightly more generic Jitters mug Barry had given her after she’d talked for half an hour about the amazing latte he’d brought back. Adding a little water she used her heat vision, topped them with the mini marshmallows, and ta da hot chocolate.

“It may not be Zakkarian Ale, but it’ll warm up even the coldest, snowiest nights,” she said, handing him the mug.

“And who doesn’t want to be kept warm?” He smirked, taking a sip and licking his upper lip.

Was he flirting? He seemed to be flirting. But her senses felt frazzled; she couldn’t tell anymore. 

“So what’s next?”

“Can you hand me those multi-colored bowls?”

Kara began measuring out the ingredients, sensing Mol-El staring at her as he leaned across the island, forearms resting on the surface. Her cheeks turned bright coral and she ducked her head away so he couldn’t see her face. 

With each twirl of the mixer the dough formed tighter and tighter, a gingerbread brick which left the loft smelling every bit the winter wonderland she’d imagined. Leaning in to catch the elusive scent she nearly toppled over as she felt Mon-El sneak up next her, so close she didn’t need super hearing to catch every lilt in his breath, staccato notes that seemed to follow an amateur maestro in their erratic movement. 

“Smells delicious,” he inhaled softly, the faintest of breaths brushing against the side of her neck. She desperately hoped the long-sleeved sweater hid the goosebumps sprouting down her arms. Heightened sense had its advantages. Now it felt like torture. Beautiful torture if such a thing existed. 

“So, uh, now we sort of wait,” she sputtered, yanking the dough out of the stand mixer with the grace of fawn and rolling it into a disk which she placed into the refrigerator.

“Don’t you have all kinds of super powers, Supergirl,” he teased. “Which can make these veeeerrrry long tasks quick and painless?”

He pointed to his stomach. “Superhero training is quite hunger inducing.”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. 

“I ordered pizzas.”

“Plural?”

“You’re not the only one in training.”

“Fair.”

Opening the fridge she took out a container of creamy liquid and swiped two new mugs from the rack. “I have one more treat.”

“I like the sound of that, although,” he eyed the bottle doubtingly, “maybe not the look of it.”

“Trust me, friend, this is eggnog. It’s sort of like pie in liquid form. Sweet, syrupy, and, for those of us of the alien persuasion, spiked with a little Adebaran rum I managed to swipe,” she smacked her tongue against the inner part of her lip. 

“Why Kara Danvers, you surprise me sometimes. Rum on a work night?”

“In moderation! Plus I’m already home. We do still have to get you back to your place in one piece.”

“That couch is more than comfortable if need be,” he grinned.

“I think we can find a way to get you back to your place, no worries.”

That pout. Good Rau.

Why couldn’t she just tell him about the kiss. If he didn’t remember--and she was beginning to suspect he did--but if he didn’t, why couldn’t she bring up? 

Of course, she knew why. Because this thing, whatever it was, was fragile. He’d denied liking her in the isolation chamber, and she was now fairly certain he was pretending not to remember the kiss. But even Alex was convinced Mon-El had feelings for Kara. And while Kara had never been a stellar judge of the attention she received from men, it was hard to deny the different way Mon-El looked at her, acted around her, touched her. It wasn’t the friendship he showed Alex, nor was it the strictly flirtatious displays he put on for the girls in the bar. She didn’t know what was going on, but she couldn’t afford to risk his friendship, even if it meant only reliving the kiss in her head.

“While we wait for dough to chill I figured a movie might be in order,” she suggested.

“What are we watching?”

“Elf. A Christmas classic, and a tale of grown male acting like a child in a new place.”

“Har-dee-har-har.”

Both erupted in laughter and she felt lighter again. The Mon-El she’d seen just a month ago was back, or at least she momentarily stopped contemplating Mon-El, her love interest, and got back to enjoying Mon-El, her friend. 

They piled onto the couch as she cuddled back beneath the cream blanket she’d been hiding under when he arrived, strategically placing herself on the opposite end. 

“Did Kryptonian schools not teach sharing?” That. Darn. Pout again. He added a shiver to it this time, wrapping his arms around his barely concealed biceps.

“Fine.” She could pout right back, as he scooted to his right, now a fingertips length away. 

She fluffed the blanket out in front of them and he inched just the tiniest bit closer, resting so close the slightest adjustment would send her flying into him. 

“Better?” She asked.

“Much. Thank you.”

“Elf” lit up the screen in front of them and she took a hefty amount of pleasure watching him watch the movie. In some ways he wasn’t so different from Buddy the Elf. He was goofy and fun loving and wanted everyone to like him, but mostly he just wanted a home. He was alone in a world that didn’t accept different, even if it fetishized that difference in fiction, and he couldn’t just snap his fingers and return to the place he loved. He really was a grown man learning as a child would about a new land. In truth, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him really laugh more than a handful of times, and her heart fluttered yet again as he laughed a real laugh as Buddy ran head first into the lockers, his body brushing up against her own in the process.

About an hour in his arm traveled to the back of the couch and it took all her willpower not to snuggle into the welcoming crevice under his shoulder. 

As the credits rolled she nearly leapt off the sofa, desperate for a little space to catch her breath.

“Cookie time!”

“Finally!”

Not even superheroes were immune to the daunted sticky-dough-counter enigma, and she found herself wrapped in a cloud of flour as she tried to roll out the gingerbread. 

“Gahhhhh” she shouted mockingly, beating the flour off her jeans. 

He chuckled.

“Here, you’ve got something…” His thumb grazed the same spot from right before he kissed her and she knew then, meeting his familiar stare, that he remembered the kiss. She could feel it in his touch, but even more in the way he quickly dropped her gaze. Scared. He looked scared, and if she hadn’t already convinced herself to drop it for the time being, the fear she saw painted in his eyes would have done it. How stupid was she not to have realized that as frightened as she was to lose his friendship, she had a whole support system. Kara, or at least Kara and her friends and family, were Mon-El’s whole support system.

“Thanks.”

The left side of his mouth formed a smile.

“Of course.”

Nervous air hung around them and she decided a short cut or two might be worth it, so placing the cut, raw cookies on the baking sheet she used her vision to quickly bake up round one.

“Try this,” she said, placing a slightly cooled cookie in his palm.

“That’s really good,” he mumbled still chewing. 

“Danvers family specialty.”

They exchanged grins, his interrupted by a yawn that seemed to stretch into eternity. 

“How about I clean up?”

He protested briefly, but ultimately he didn’t seem to have much of a fight in him. 

“Do you mind if I stay a little longer?”

“Not at all,” and she meant it. Sharing the space with someone was nice, and she missed Alex. Not that she wasn’t happy for her, she couldn’t have been more thrilled that her sister had found someone who made her so happy. Still, she missed Alex dropping by and just existing comfortably next to another person, trading stories, laughing, eating. She understood why Mon-El seemed scared, she couldn’t blame him. Tonight was pretty perfect, kiss or not. 

When she looked over her shoulder, dishes nearly spotless, she caught Mon-El starting to doze off, head slumping against the pillow nestled into the couch arm. The faintest of smiles betraying him.

From her closet she grabbed an extra plaid blanket, red and blue checked, and warm enough to keep out the intruding cold from the window panes whose function often felt purely decorative. 

Gently she spread the blanket over him, not quite asleep, but his breathing becoming shallower with his exhale.

“‘Night,” she whispered tip-toeing away. His hand caught hers lightly just in time, cool and tender around her own.

“Kara, I…” His brow furrowed and the peaceful look he wore only moments earlier turned, not darker exactly, but grayer. Eyes, brown and light, covered over with storm clouds deep and worrisome.

“Yeah?” Heart beats swung from pathway to pathway, unsure which one was safe. 

Quickly as they appeared, however, the clouds cleared and that smile she couldn’t stop thinking about returned.

“Thank you. Really. Tonight was,” he sighed. “Well I felt like I was home. Maybe not on Daxam, but home nonetheless.”

He squeezed her hand more firmly, lingering for a second too long.

“Well then, welcome home, Mon-El.” A warm smile spreading across her face. 

“Welcome home too Kara,” he muttered softly as he fell back to sleep.

It really was good to be home.


End file.
